So here I am once more
In the playground of the broken hearts
One more experience, one more entry in a diary self-penned
Yet another emotional suicide
Overdosed on sentiment and pride
Too late to say I love you
Too late to restage the play
Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday…
Hello, good evening and welcome. Those lyrics are Marillion’s, “Script for a Jester’s Tear” as whispering Bob might have said, or not. Why? And why not? Why bother?
Prompted by Mme Editor’s recommendation of “Lows, Highs and Balti Pies… Manchester City Ruined My Diet” I went all Amazon.co.uk and ordered it, ‘cept there was also an autobiography of Tommy Doyle’s, oh and same for Nelly Young. Heidi on commission methinks:-)
Am charging through the Mike Doyle book like a Harry Potter. Can’t believe how much of it mirrors what was being said (mostly by my dad, God rest him) in our ‘ouse at the time. Read it if you’ve not already done so!
So I’ve gone all retro maudlin’ like fer t’old days and summat to biggit up about. Well that and the fact that the tickets for t’derby match is sorted, albeit via a hotel deal which “cannot guarantee tickets together”. WTF sort of club endorses a deal like that? Pays us a sh*tload of dosh for your CityCard International (which still has no secure ticket ordering facility or anyone that replies to your emails when expressing a desire for tickets but insecurity in respect of disclosing payment details via email? Sh*t on us but we’re still CTID). So in fact I’m paying someone endorsed by the Club a reasonable premium for my son’s 16th to see a derby match by dint of which I qualify to proudly present my CityCard International, that I have paid a premium for (sorry again), to not be guaranteed to sit and sweat and curse together. So are the tickets the unsold dregs that no-one can shift?
So we look like we might be safe, at Christmas no less <homer on> Dohhhhh <homer off> doesn’t time fly when you remember when we won something worth a sh*t? Sorry, going all Doyley. Hope Neil Young doesn’t say f@$k much in the next book to be read:-))
Getting butterflies even now thinking about the derby match. Christ. 46 years young and doing the obsessive compulsive things that will help us win hehehe. I wonder if it matters as much to the squad as it used to? Hope so ‘coz it matters more to me now than it ever did. Why do we wallow in the “Hate Man U” bit? Oh I know why I do, but then do I? Media sympathy cuts deep and against all reasonable boundaries. Don’t get me started. But then I’m not alone I’m sure.
Bear with me whilst I wibble Why Blue?
Well I wasn’t to start with. Oh no. Born in 1958 for those of you who couldn’t be arsed enough to do the maths earlier. Oh no. Was Red (blush). Glory hunter is me, well, was me given the last umpteen years of pain and enforced smiles and platitudes passing for understanding the playing assets of the top flighters. I want to be able to tell them all to GTF ‘coz we have swept all before us. I’ve more chance of Britney Spears begging for it. Or maybe not <pinch> Awake now. Nodded off for a bit then.
Yeah, was Rag when at Junior School. Was fat b*****d so would have done owt to fit in, face it, it matters at that age. Mam and dad even bought us red shirts and took the photos to subsequently use against us. Eccles was a bit Rag in them days. Let’s face it, probably still is, that’s why the Metro does a Swamp stop from there.
Anyroad up, in our ‘ouse we used to be regaled with tales of City in the Trautman, Roy Paul and all sorts of non-media generally mentioned type people, yet told with the reverence reserved for deities (like Trautmann and Roy Paul) with no overt criticism for the swampness extant. This was an obvious undercover attempt to convert covertly.
Was took to Maine Road with me mam, me gran and our kid. Dad was on the ‘papers (thievingMirrorPensionssurethey’reragsanorl) so he was on mid-week duties. Just to make sure I was hooked, season tickets were us soon after. Graduated to Kippax (corner of Kippax and Platt Lane big wall to sit on).
Used to pray for Colin Bell to be me dad and Mike Doyle to be me big brother only up until about 1999 tho’ 😉
Why Blue. Chest swells, great memories, self-harm, Betty Ford supports City you know, all those meetings and no cheese and wine:-0
Back to the verse up top I’m sure Fish must have been a City fan; at least I can overdose on sentiment and pride. I feel like a relic abandoned now that I’m away and trying to get to a game now and then.
The halcyon days will never be restaged but I’ve been wrong before:-)
Right, back to not stepping on nicks in the path and being considerate to other drivers.
First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #1091 on